Matthew Smith had been buried in solving problems all day, while Emily navigated the web of gossip swirling around her. Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she simultaneously corrected assignments and replied to messages.

"Why are you so busy today?" Matthew asked, pen in hand, watching her with a subtle irritation. He wasn’t fond of their time together being interrupted.

"It’s because I posted something on social media," Emily paused, realizing something, "Wait, have we not added each other on Facebook yet?"

Matthew fixed her with a look. "You’re just figuring that out now?"

"Well, we’ve been inseparable these last few days," she reasoned, flashing a QR code on her phone with enthusiasm. "Here, let’s add each other. It'll make staying in touch easier."

Matthew brought up his phone, scanning the code. Emily received the friend request notification immediately. His profile picture was pitch black, the username cryptically signed as "VICI."

"VENI VIDI VICI?" Emily guessed, reciting the Latin phrase.

Matthew shot her a swift glance, a hint of displeasure in his tone. "Was it that obvious?"

"I had a phase during adolescence when I liked that, too. It’s good for showing off."

Matthew frowned. "I should change the name."

Emily grinned, offering a suggestion, "How about 'Between Mountains and Seas'?"

"What does that even mean?" Matthew questioned, rifling through his mental Latin glossary before meeting her eyes.

"‘The long winds stretch thousands of miles, blowing through the Jade Gate Pass,’" she recited a line of poetry. "It’s a famous saying from my hometown."

There it was again, her dimpled smile, so sweet it made his heart flutter. His mind wandered back to the night before, to the taste of kissing her, an intimate connection that left him dazed and yearning for more. He tempered his greedy gaze, his voice roughened with a whisper of desire, "I didn’t know."

"I think this nickname is grand," Emily pressed, "and it fits your name."

Matthew remained silent.

Emily forwarded him a photo, captured from their time at the lakeside villa. The day had been overcast, sullen clouds canvas the sky in a broad stroke, settling where the grey met the deep blue lake. Only one corner of the sky seemed tinged with muted light. Her editing made the landscape appear vast and lone, resonating with a rebellious teenager's aesthetics.

She added a teasing message: [Avatar comes free with purchase!]

Matthew replied with a simple “.” and tossed his phone aside, frowning as he resumed working through his problems.

Not one to disrupt his focus, Emily moved to the terrace, perched herself to soak in the view while continuing her responses.

Near lunchtime, Emily noticed a new notification of a "like" on her social media post. She checked, recognizing the familiar avatar and even more familiar username. "Between Mountains and Seas."

So, he was the type to sulk. Emily’s eyes curved into crescents as a soft laugh escaped her.

...

As night descended, Matthew lay sprawled across his bed, legs bent, eyes fixed on the chandelier resembling wind chimes on the ceiling. The gentle sound irked him, jangling his nerves.

His earphones buzzed with his friend’s voice. "Matthew, who was that at the lake with you that day?"

Another voice, calmer, chimed in. It was Jack, a childhood friend known for his veneer of intelligence yet equally prone to mischief. "I heard your dad got married," Jack added casually.

"What?!" the other friend exclaimed, "Is she your stepmom?"

Matthew's irritation deepened. "Where did you hear that?"

"My dad told me last night—apparently, it's all over social media," Jack replied quickly.

Social media? Matthew pressed into his abs, sitting up abruptly, teeth clenched as he opened his contact list to find “Dad.” The latest post: a picture of a marriage certificate's cover.

Caption? "Yes, I’m married. Though it was swift, she’s delightful."

"Damn it!" Matthew roared, especially seeing Emily’s like on the post.

"Matthew, calm down!" his friends urged, trying to soothe him. "We’ve got your back."

"You need to be wary," Jack continued, appealing to practicalities and news stories, outlining schemes of hundreds of familial power struggles. “Remember, when there’s a new stepmother, the new stepfather might not be far behind. Think about all the property involved; you don’t want to be fooled."

Matthew couldn’t bear it, his mind raging at his father—this was an affront, deliberately challenging him.

He stormed around like a lion newly caged, the sea breeze cooling his fevered anger. But as the breeze took hold, clarity returned.

Thomas hadn’t clarified who his new wife was.

And from last night’s taste...

Matthew felt the heat of frustration turn to the blush of simple desire. Decided on his next steps, he wouldn’t relinquish her.

Driven by instincts he didn’t fully comprehend, he knew he had to pursue her, though not if it meant alienating her.

This was a predicament of some complexity. Emily was, by law, his stepmother, with an eight-year age gap between them. While Matthew could disregard age and titles, Emily couldn’t, and wouldn’t.

Though the past few days had been playful and comfortable in their interactions, she maintained a deliberate boundary. Her every act of care stemmed from the authority of a guardian.

Matthew replayed the moment he’d lifted her clear off the ground.

She’d blushed furiously, her hands and feet hesitant, avoiding his gaze.

It had been an intentional provocation—being barely clad, playfully hoisting her.

Despite living under the same roof, they kept their distance; academic discussions took place across the large dining table, their rooms separated by an expansive living area, pursuing individual interests in their leisure time.

Except, once, she'd fed him a berry. But never again after that.

She watched him swim on occasion, her gaze appreciative yet discerning, as one might to a movie character.

However, her demeanor shifted when he made contact. She grew flustered, nervous, and yes—she’d blush.

That timidity was gendered.

No one shies from a child's touch, so she knew, deep down, that he was a man.

Matthew studied his hands, those fingers that had wrapped around her slender waist. Through the fabric, they sensed the allure he'd sampled repeatedly the previous night.

If instinct told him anything, it was that she might enjoy his touch, were she honest with herself.

So... he could draw closer.

Matthew spread his fingers, pressing them over his face, as a strategist contemplates a board from behind a veil of secrecy.

Through half-closed eyes of a watchful night, a gleam pierced.

Whether it was to satisfy his yearning or to adjust her perception, he needed one thing above all—

To touch her.